AVP: Acheron's Legacy
by the la li lu le lo
Summary: Set after Aliens, a platoon of marines escort some unknown cargo from LV-426 to a recently terraformed planet, Eden. But a private contractor for The Company stumbles upon a dark secret. The Company is up to its old tricks, but will a 3rd party stop them?
1. Mysterious Cargo

Chapter One

Mysterious Cargo

**For** over two centuries, space was humanity's greatest challenge. Many lives and countless billions of dollars were lost trying to conquer it. Nowadays, mankind had forgotten that struggle. It had forgotten its own vulnerable, unstable past, full as it was of wars, violence and discrimination. Yet for all its vulnerability, humanity lived a sheltered childhood, protected – for the most part – from events beyond its atmosphere. Sure, there had been events in Central America and Antarctica, inexplicable events that had to be swept under the rug, or filed away for later years, when humanity was ready. Now humanity had left the sheltered nest of Earth and began its slow crawl through the universe. Like a nestling first learning to fly, mankind thought it was invincible. That was about to change.

Todd Scotts watched as Senior Director Brett Smith read his report beneath furrowed brows. This was a proud moment, not only for Todd, but for the entire human race. Three words were accentuated by their bold font, these three words represented the epitome humanity's efforts.

**TERRAFORMING PROCESS COMPLETE**

"Congratulations, Sir, you will soon become the first president of mankind's first _complete_ and _successful_ terraforming process." Todd told his superior with a smile.

Todd was one of the original team members who arrived with the Senior Director when the first stage of the terraforming process, the atmospheric establishment stage, was begun. It had been a long road for both of them, consuming five years of their lives, but now Eden, formerly classified as KO-265, was completely habitable. The super-continent that dominated the planet, Atlantis, was now home to several human colonies. The wilderness separating the colonies was populated by a vast diversity of both Earth and native animal. The Weyland-Yutani Corporation had even established a local research lab to begin processing samples taken from the as yet uncolonised islands that were dotted throughout Eden's giant oceans.

"I'm sure the Corporation will be very pleased with your success." He added after a moment of thought.

A small smile crept across the aging man's face as he glanced at a sealed file with an unmissable red stamp reading:CONFIDENTIAL. "I'm sure they will be. How is that new enclosure coming along?"

"Excellent, Sir, my people are just putting the finishing touches on the electric fencing as we speak. It should be fully functional by midday tomorrow. What exactly is going to be put in there?"

Smith tapped the secret file meaningfully, before moving on to the next issue with his usual, speedy professionalism. "Good. The _USS Valkyrie_ will be docking at the same time -"

"When would you like me to have its cargo unloaded by?" Scott asked, trying to match his employer's professionalism. The cold look he received from the man sitting behind the desk told him it had been a mistake.

"Actually, Mr. Scotts, I will be overseeing that process myself. All I need from you is to keep the docking station clear until the _Valkyrie_ leaves, and then clear a route from the station to the enclosure for the cargo and its marine escort."

Todd felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't like the marines and their gun-ho nature. His father had been one for twenty years, and he was never really the same man when he came home. Todd was sure _he_ was the source of his marital problems.

As sharp as ever, Smith picked up on Todd's feelings and took off his spectacles to look him in the eye. "Look, Todd, all you need to worry yourself with is keeping those areas clear. As soon as the cargo is safely in the enclosure, the marines will be housed in adjacent accommodation, ten miles from the nearest colony. There won't be any trouble, the Corporation has it well under control."

Smith's words did little to sooth Todd's fears, but he knew now was not the time to press the matter. There was work to be done. After a long pause, he nodded and murmured his agreement. He had a bad feeling about this.

**Glares** were pouring out of every half open window they passed, Major Zanders could feel it. He couldn't really blame the locals. After years of working and living to themselves, it must be extremely violating to see a platoon of armed Colonial Marines marching through their streets. What was probably more concerning was the way the walked – with half their weapons facing inward toward the large container they were guarding, and the other half pointed outwards, as though the locals were a band of extremists, or infected with a plague.

There wasn't much to like about the situation. Moving through a colony, pissing off the locals like this, then sitting around on guard duty for two months, waiting for relief. A solar storm was raging in the Home System, severing communications with Earth. The only backup that could be expected were small bands of militia from the other surface colonies, and the only extraction method was a single dropship the _Valkyrie_ had left at Eden's orbital station. Not to mention the super confidentiality Weyland-Yutani were treating this with. The whole thing stank, but their noses had been out in the cold too long.

The Marine Corps had been out of work for years now. Ever since the outlying colonies had settled down, they had been growing more and more desperate for work. This place may not be a shithole like Argon, but it was far from paradise. And it would be a month and a half before the solar storms lifted, making it two months before they had any hope of relief.

Zanders thoughts were interrupted as their pointman called a halt. It wasn't hard to spot the problem. A lone colonist was standing in the centre of the concrete road, a semi automatic pulse rifle slung over his left shoulder. An eerie silence descended on the street, like an old fashioned stand-off one read about in the history books. But Zanders knew this wasn't a history book, and things could get real ugly, real fast.

"Stand down, but stay frosty." He muttered into his headset as he approached the man himself.

"There a problem here, Sir?" Zanders asked, struggling to hide his frustration.

The man took a long puff on his cigarette before letting it drop and smothering it underfoot. "No, no. We get Colonial Marines marching through our town all the time." The man said sarcastically.

Zanders studied the colonist for a moment. He looked downright pissed, yes, but he didn't look like a fool. This was a demonstration, not a death wish. "What's your name?"

"Frank... Frank Jaeger." The man growled, removing his sunglasses and locking eyes with Zanders.

"Well, Frank, we're just passing through. We don't want any trouble." Zanders tried to reason.

"That's good to here. We're all just hoping y'all haven't brought trouble with ya." Frank said, nodding toward the container. "What's in that anyway?"

"Beats me. All I know is that it's something the Company is willing to ship over here all the way from Acheron. When it comes to Weyland-Yutani, I'm still only a grunt."

Frank nodded thoughtfully and seemed to understand where Zanders was coming from, but he still stared suspiciously at the container as he walked away.

"Let's keep moving." Zanders ordered, confident that there would be no more trouble. Little did he know, trouble was brewing. Frank Jaeger's suspicions had been right. The trouble was trapped inside the container, waiting for them, for freedom.

**The** enclosure was amazing. Not only was it huge, but it was masterfully constructed to prevent any escape. Three rows of electric fences circled the enclosure, but even their twenty foot height was dwarfed by the forty foot tall concrete wall, which was five metres thick and had been coated with some substance supposedly designed to withstand even the most corrosive substances. The base of the wall was even lined with flame jets, controlled from the Central Control of the adjacent Research Lab. Inside the enclosure itself was a dense jungle inhabited by Eden's and Earth's most dangerous creatures.

Todd stood in Central Control, looking through the six inches of glass to study the interior of the enclosure. "All this, for just a few wild animals?" He asked Smith as the Senior Director approached from behind.

"The Company likes to protect its investments, Mr. Scotts." Was the only answer he got before the company man walked away with his hands clasped behind his back.

Todd watched as the man left. He knew the company was up to its usual tricks. This Research Lab, the enclosure, the Colonial Marines... and then there was that mysterious cargo. Something wasn't right, and Todd was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Sir," His escorted began, stepping up to him. "It is time for you to leave."

Todd nodded. "Alright, I will show myself out. Thank you."

As Todd walked through the pearly white corridors he kept his eyes peeled for anything important. He knew he stood out like a sore thumb in his civilian clothes. Everyone here was dressed in either a white lab coat, a security uniform, or a crisp, clean suit. _Everyone_ had a Weyland-Yutani employee badge. Despite only being a private contractor hired by the company, Todd's important position gave him clearance to anywhere on the planet. It sounded better than it actually was, just about the only things worth access to in a colony was the Operations Room, the Board Room and the Armoury. Until now that is.

Taking an impromptu left, Todd followed the corridor until he came to a door with a say reading: Restricted Area. Authorised Weyland-Yutani personal only. Above the doorway, another sign told him this was the Observation Room. There was a beeping as the door's security system scanned his PDT. The beeping cut off and a red light flashed from somewhere. "Warning, you are not authorised to access this area of the facility." The female voice informed him.

"Can it, Muther! Let me in!" All he got in response was the same, automated female voice. Looking over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, he sighed deeply. This was the point of no return. "Muther. Manual Override Code Seven Alpha Two Two Niner."

"Manual override accepted." The voice replied, before a sharp beep signalled the door opening.

The room beyond was pure white, except for a few control panels, which were predominantly black. A small cupboard provided safety equipment, and next to that was an intercom. A small camera in the corner of the room watched everything in silence. The main feature of the room was the glass pane, beyond which was a dark room with a single, rectangular bench running parallel to the room.

"What the fuck..." Todd muttered, stepping up to the glass, which was just as thick as the glass in the Central Control.

Sitting the centre of the empty room, illuminated by a soft white light, were three large, leathery eggs. They must have been at least a foot and a half tall, just shy of a foot wide at their centre. He thought he saw something move inside the centre one. He had never seen anything like these before. Before he had suspected it, now he was sure of it. They company was up to something off the books. That's why he had been hired. The terraforming part of his job was just a ruse... they had really wanted him here to build this "wildlife enclosure." Bullshit. This was a cage, no two ways about it. But a cage for what? Electric fences, fire jets, acid resistant walls? This was some weird fucking shit, and here he was... a private contractor, someone with no previous affiliation with the company... something told him that contract wasn't too legitimate either.

"Todd what the fuck are you doing here?" A stern voice yelled.

_Oh shit._ Todd thought, knowing the shit had really hit the fan.


	2. The Sulaco

**Major** Zanders hardly even had a chance to stow his gear in the small but neat little room he was supplied with when the intercom buzzed. With a sigh, he strolled over to the screen and inserted his card key. The screen sprung to life, suddenly full of colour and shape in the form of Brett Smith's scowling face. The Senior Director was mid-sentence when he was patched through, and he looked pretty pissed.

"Soldier -" He began, his first mistake.

"That is Major Zanders, sir." The officer cut him off sternly.

"Major. Are your men settled in?" Before Zanders could reply, the Senior Director continued. "Orbital Control has just detected a military vessel approaching Eden. They aren't responding – do you know anything about this?"

Zanders frowned. "No sir. As far as I know, all operations are postponed until after that solar storm blocking Home System winds down."

Smith leant to the side and Zanders could just see somebody whispering into his ear. Company men. All secrets and need-to-know. Zanders hated them. After a moment, the man spoke. "It's transponder beacon is telling us it is the _Sulaco_. Does that change your answer?" Before Zanders could say yes, the man continued. "They aren't responding to our hail. I'm sending a team from Orbital Control to investigate."

"No!" Zanders ordered, fixing his stern gaze on the Senior Director.

"What was that, _soldier_?" Smith hissed, a threatening tone in his voice.

Sucking in a deep breath, Zanders squared his jaw, ready to hold his ground. "Sir, the _Sulaco_ is a vessel of the United Nations Marine Corps and thus it falls under military jurisdiction. Mine being the only military outfit in the vicinity, it becomes my responsibility as the Commanding Officer of this unit to investigate the issue." Without waiting for a reply, Zanders ended the transmission.

He knew something wasn't right. He remembered his friend from the Military Academy, Lieutenant William Gorman, mentioning that he had been detailed to a new unit being sent to fix up some faulting communications on Acheron. Company orders. He hadn't heard from him since. Official documentation from the rescue team sent after the marines were declared overdue reported high levels of radiation where the colony had been. All signs indicated that the atmosphere processor had gone radiative and set off a thermonuclear explosion. The only signs of life that remained were from a derelict spacecraft. That's where the cargo had come from. There had to be a link between that cargo and the _Sulaco_.

Zanders felt a grim determination settle on his shoulders as he strapped on his helmet and body armour. He knew that all the signs pointed toward his old friend being dead. But he would be damned if he wasn't going to get to the bottom of all this.

Adjusting his helmet so he could speak into the headset he contacted his platoon. "First and Second Squads, saddle up! We're moving out."

**The** excited buzz in the dropship died as they approached the _Sulaco's_ docking platform. Lieutenant Andrew Van Dyke knew that something was up. The Major was never this quiet during a drop. In fact, the arrogant young officer was usually smoking a fat cigar, filling the entire cabin with its putrid smoke. Now he was simply chewing it, and in the ten minutes it had been in his mouth it had been reduced to a mere stub. The man was nervous, Van Dyke didn't need to be a shrink to see that. But why?.

First Squad on me, we're heading for the bridge." Now the Lieutenant perked up, waiting for his squad's orders to be delivered next. "Second Squad, head for the cryo chambers. I want to know how many marines are left."

Van Dyke frowned at that last part, but would follow his orders to the letter nonetheless. "Alright ladies, you heard the Major. Assholes and elbows let's move, move move!"

In two files they jogged out, fingers resting tense on the trigger guard as the echo of their boots resounded eerily throughout the ship. One dropship was parked on the other side of the platform, with no sign of the second. There was some minor tearing in the steel grates of the floor, giving the impression of a struggle.

The intercom crackled in his helmet. "Sir, scans came up negative. This place appears dead." The dropship's pilot, Sparrow, informed the CO.

True to her word, the silent and edgy walk to the cryo chambers was uneventful. Nothing stirred. Inside the white room, dim blue lights cast long shadows everywhere. However, nothing could hide the gaping hole in the wall where an escape pod had clearly been jettisoned. All of the remaining chambers were starkly empty.

"Looks like nobody's home, Sir." One private said as he inspected the empty cryo chambers.

"No shit, Davidson. Has anyone got anything to say that I _don't_ already know?" Van Dyke growled.

"Sir!" A female voice called from a computer terminal on the other side of the room.

"Tell me you have something, Choplyn."

"Hard to say, Sir." She mused in a thick Russian accent. "Looks to be some type of report. Looks more like a fairytale if you ask me.

Van Dyke skimmed through the file he was handed. It was written by one Warrant Officer E. Ripley. He caught a few keywords... _Nostromo... LV-426...Derelict ship..._ and then it got interesting..._ eggs... impregnated... human host... alien._ He paused on that last word. This woman had to be insane. After centuries of space flight and decades of human colonisation and not a single contact with extraterrestrial lifeforms, and here was this woman blabbering on about some bullshit. He palmed it off to Sergeant Watkins, who chuckled.

"You call this shit a fairytale, Choplyn? I'd hate to see your fucking nightmares." All ten of the laughed at that. However, the merriment was short lived as Major Zanders came in over the intercom.

"Lieutenant Van Dyke, what's your status?"

"Uhh, Sir we have no friendlies. However, an escape pod was launched with three cryo chambers."

"Yes. I can see it in the ship's log. It appears that a fire was detected." Before Van Dyke could disagree, Sparrow interrupted them.

"Sir! I'm receiving an urgent transmission from Third Squad, patching it through!" She spoke fast, clearly worried.

"Major! This is Corporal Taylor. You need to get back here ASAP. There's some weird shit going on down here!" Van Dyke could hear the panic in his voice – the man was clearly falling to pieces.

"Keep it together Corporal! Where is your Sergeant?"

The man's next words were choked with emotion. "Dead, Sir. At least, we think it is him."

"You think?" Zanders asked. All movement had stopped and all eyes were now on Van Dyke.

"On me marines! Back to the dropship – Choplyn grab that report!" He ordered before jogging out of the room, setting the pace back to the dropship.

"We can't tell, Sir."

There was silence for a moment, before the Major finally spoke again, this time ordering Van Dyke back to the dropship. "Already on it Sir."

**The** _Sulaco's_ bridge was dark and unwelcoming. It suited Zanders just fine. He had two men watching each of the three doors, and three men patrolling the corridors around the bridge. He didn't expect any danger, but there was something about this ship that gave him the creeps – like secrets of some dark and horrible past. At the very least it gave him a chance to revise the ship's logs alone. A video log of the landing platform showed one dropship leaving with the full crew on board. Sometime later, seemingly of its own accord, the second one took off. That was the first sign that something was wrong. After fast forwarding hours worth of footage, he saw the second dropship return. But where there should have been an APC full of marines there was just a woman, a little girl and a Bishop model synth. Suddenly something removed itself from an alcove of the dropship and impaled the android. Freezing the footage, he gazed in horror at the monster on the screen. It was like some freakish nightmare – as black as night with a huge tail, broad crest on its head and no eyes to be seen.

"Bill, what did you get yourself into?" He muttered. That must be what those scientists were so interested in on Acheron! "What have _I_ gotten myself into?"

Suddenly a red emergency light started flashing. "**Warning! Weapons lock detected! Warning! Weapons lock detected!**" The computerised female voice warned. "**Estimated time to impact... sixty seconds.**"

Activating his intercom, he sought out a private channel with his 2IC. "Lieutenant Van Dyke." He spoke in a grave tone. "These are my orders. Once you have secured Third Squad, I need you to find that cargo we escorted in and destroy it! _All_ of it!"

"Sir? What is this about?" The man asked, clearly confused.

"**Ten seconds.**" The automated voice warned.

"An alien." Was all he could offer before closing his eyes and waiting for the end.

Van Dyke cried out in shock and pain as his earpiece peaked and cut out, leaving his ears ringing. Lifting up his harness, he marched into the cockpit to see bright flames and chunks of debris filling the space where the _Sulaco _had been.

"Sparrow what the _fuck_ just happened?" He wasn't usually one for swearing, but this time he couldn't help it.

"I don't know, Sir. One second the _Sulaco_ was there. The next, she was in a billion different places.

"Patch me through to Orbital Control!" He growled, glaring at the little space station as it hovered above Eden, appearing oblivious to what had just occurred.

"Orbital Control this is Lieutenant Van Dyke of the Colonial Marines. Do you read me?"

"Loud and clear Lieutenant. Our radar is detecting something large and fast passing right by you. Whatever it is, it just took out the _Sulaco_."

"There's nothing there. Now Ma... my men were on that ship! So you had better tell me what is happening out here or God help me -" He threatened the man on the other end. He knew that the man had done nothing wrong – but all reasoning had just been thrown out the window.

"Sir." Sparrow said meekly, as though distracted. "He's right. I can't see a thing, but the scanner says something just passed us. Whatever it is, it is heading for Eden."

The operator at Orbital Control spoke up tentatively. "Sir. We just finished tracing the trajectory of the anomaly... it... it is a direct match to the _Valkyrie_... It followed you here!"

"What the hell is going on?" He asked himself. Whatever the answer was, he was pretty sure that the answer had been on the _Sulaco_.


End file.
